as sweet, as simple, as Paul
by Karin Serendipity
Summary: Maybe Paul doesn't know how to be sweet, but he's got another air about him: the lack of complexity in his words.


"_Come on!" _is punctuated by a stomp of the foot of the most mature caliber; Dawn does not mind that she might be acting as though she is a twelve year old because it has always been like this between them and quite frankly, she is fed up with these games.

Paul stands there: unmoved by her words, unresponsive to them. There is silence in which Dawn is very aware of how fast her heart is beating in anticipation of him; more than anything, she wants him to talk to her about this. "Admit it: you _like _me!" She barrels through his silence as though it doesn't affect her when in reality it is making her palms sweat. Expectation swims in her veins: she feels uneasy and restless even if there isn't a doubt that he does like her, all she needs is a confirmation. What is going to happen after that though…? She hopes that she'll figure that out as she goes. . _Take one step at a time_, _Dawn_.

Step one: Confession.

The scene is most likely comical to any outside parties that witness it: Dawn is standing inside the small breakfast room that the building offers. Goldenrod City really proved to be a beautiful city and one that Dawn thoroughly enjoys being in. The Radio Tower is where Paul and she reside currently; both had been offered to speak on air at similar times: Paul, six-thirty, about catching badges; Dawn, seven-fifteen, about her latest win. Now they are having their break in the seclusion of the small room that is home to delectable treats for workers at Radio Tower. Dawn's hair is sticking up in the oddest ways because she had not anticipated the humidity of the Johto region during this time of the year; Paul is holding a cup of coffee in a mug that has cute, pink Pokemon dancing around floating hearts. Luckily, no one ventures towards the breakfast room at this time of the morning because most employees are busy; this gives them the privacy that they need, or that Dawn wants.

"What is the big deal of keeping it a secret if _I _already know?" She continues, waving her hand in the air between them as though clearing mist. This gesture says that Dawn thinks all this avoiding the problem at hand is frivolous. As long as the secret keeps that she likes him, she will stand unfettered by all this.

Paul takes a deep breath, moving the cup away from his mouth slowly so that his speech remains whole; intact, "One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple."

Fumbling, Dawn stands there with her mouth hanging open in retaliation, but she can not find an appropriate response; the words he speaks are so odd and ill-placed that Dawn wonders if maybe she is making a mistake by trying to force this confession out of him. Still, he remains unaffected and takes another sip from his coffee. He faintly smells of black coffee and a musky smell that always clings to him. It is foolish of Dawn to want to be enveloped in that smell, but she wants to wrap her arms around him. When reality comes back to her, she shakes off the childish desires that she is possessing so this can come to fruition, Dawn believes that Paul is smirking.

She's infuriated to say the least, and Brock or Ash isn't here to stop her from going after Paul. Normally she is kept in check by her companions, but it has been awhile since she has even been in contact with either of them. "What's in store for you in the direction you don't take?" It is a retaliation in the most poetic way she can manage. Not a big fan of literary works, Dawn isn't sure if she is even hitting the nail on the head.

Paul's smirk grows, "I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference."

There's a lapse, Dawn smiles sadly, "I don't suppose it does." Her words are transparent and suddenly she feels very frail; Paul has this affect over her and always has. Instantly, his smirk falters and falls.

"I mean it: one day, the right words will be here," there's something sad in his eyes too, "then I can tell you the truth."

Now Dawn's a papergirl and her bones are made of glass. Surely, she is going to break if anyone touches her, but she doesn't think that will happen anytime soon: not in this room. Why he makes her feel like this is beyond her, but she unconsciously pulls at the ends of her hair. "And it'll be simple, right?"

"As simple as an 'I love you.'" He confirms, but the words seem foreign in his mouth and he spits them out instead of letting his speech fall from his lips. Dawn feels her heart speed up when he says it, but it isn't towards her; it is an example: a poor example.

Keeping to her nature, she retaliates, "That's not so simple." There isn't a malicious intent to her words, but there is a bitterness to her voice. She's tired of these games that they constantly play, but never tired of him.

Paul shrugs, then takes a sip, "What's complicated about it?" It isn't just a question for her because she can see him turning it over in his own mind; love was way too complicated to be simple, but he didn't seem to share those thoughts. Maybe he was just trying to disagree with her to get her ruffled, or more likely, he was deluded enough to think it is uncomplicated. It appears as though he is going to say more, but then he takes another sip of his coffee, turning away to set the empty cup down.

Dawn turns, running her fingers through her hair quickly ridding it of any small tangles that have collected. "Okay then. See you around, Paul." Something inside her snaps, but she powers through this sudden feeling of weariness and walks out of the room, feeling stronger with each step.

_He's all about simplicity, but couldn't be any more complicated._

**Author's Note: Alright! Number two of the contest between Kerminatorthefrog, Kaede Lee Itsumara, and Veggiefishh! This prompt was "Simplicity." I'd love some feedback. Yay, first Ikarishipping fic I've written.**


End file.
